Debra Daniel's search for home

March 21, 2006|PABLO ROS Tribune Staff Writer

Her name was Marianna Rodriguez, although Debra Daniel never called her anything except abuelita (grandma). Abuelita was a "tiny lady" (Debra's words) from San Sebastian, Puerto Rico, who had worked in a sweatshop in New York and sewed her own clothes. On the weekends, Debra drove abuelita to the Spanish and Indian markets in Alabama, where abuelita lived with the Daniel family until her death. "They (the markets) reminded her of home," recalls Debra, one of WSBT-TV's new anchors. "Papayas, all the stuff she would cook with," Debra said. The only English word abuelita knew was, "Wassamatter?" Debra bought her abuelita perfumes. "She was all about perfumes," Debra said. In return for Debra's kindness, abuelita made her pastelitos and coffee (the old-fashioned way, with a mesh to sift the residue). Pastelitos are made with cornmeal dough, chicken and beef, olives and raisins and spices. You wrap them in banana leaf and boil them. "It's the best food on planet Earth," said Debra. They're part of her heritage but have become a kind of forbidden fruit: once tasted, never to be found again. Not in this town, anyway. "I'm mad for not learning how (to make them)," said Debra, who has unsuccessfully searched for pastelitos all over Michiana. Whenever Debra goes back to Puerto Rico to visit her mother's cousins, that's all she ever eats: pastelitos morning, noon, and night. Her mother's family lives in San Sebastian, a little town with gravel roads, little coffee shops and houses where people take you in and you can relax. Both of Debra's parents were once in the military. Irving Daniel and María Anna Cuevas met at Ft. Meade, Md., in a dance competition. They could really dance, to the beat of Salsa music, which developed in the heart of the Puerto Rican community in New York City in the 1960s, she says. Debra herself was born in Manhattan, N.Y., and has three younger brothers: Ramón, Eric and Marco. She grew up in Pittsburgh, El Paso and Nuremberg, Germany, among other places. Debra's mother never wanted them to learn Spanish. María Anna had come to the States at age 14 and had to learn English the hard way, by joining the public school system right away. She didn't want her children to have to grapple with two languages at once. But Debra minored in Spanish in college, anyway. While in graduate school, Debra started working for a radio station in Nashville, Tenn. She's been in the news business ever since. Pablo Ros Voces Latinas Pablo Ros writes a weekly feature for The Tribune. Debra's family has visited her in South Bend. At the Linebacker once, Black Man (that's what Debra calls her dad) and Mrs. Daniel started showing off their moves and the whole floor just cleared, recalls Debra. Her mother was "the sweetest person on earth, a good cook, and very protective." She was a mother and a close friend with whom Debra spoke everyday until her death in March 2003. Her father is retired and lives in Alabama. He is in a bowling league and is the king of barbecue ribs. "My dad's a hoot," said Debra. Abuelita, too, came to South Bend once. Debra took her around town and to the University of Notre Dame. "Muy bonito," was her impression ("Very pretty") of Michiana. Now, South Bend has been Debra's home for over a decade. But if she could only find pastelitos, man, it'd be closer to the heart.Staff writer Pablo Ros: pros@sbtinfo.com (574) 235-6555